


Remembering How to Feel

by porcelainsimplicity, Scarlett_Phoenix



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Comfort, Conversation, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, No Sex, Working things out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/porcelainsimplicity/pseuds/porcelainsimplicity, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Phoenix/pseuds/Scarlett_Phoenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik wants to be a better man so he seeks out the only one who ever made him one</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembering How to Feel

**Author's Note:**

> Charles and Erik finally talk, and certain things become clear between the two. 
> 
> This was just another idea we both came up with. It won't be the end of them. Hope you all enjoy it like we did and reviews are always nice.

Erik stood on the porch of Charles's home. For two months straight, he had been trying to talk to Charles and everyday he had been denied. He knew today would be like any other day, being denied again, but couldn't help but hold onto the small hope of being welcomed in. Erik knocked on the door twice and waited patiently until it opened.

Hank came barreling out of the door, car keys in hand, with an angry look on his face. “If you harm a hair on his head while I'm gone, I swear to you, I will track you down and kill you. Do you understand?”

 _Sure you would,_ he thought. “You've made your point quite clear,” Erik said, hitting the side of Hank's arm. “Where can I find him?”

Hank's forehead turned blue at the touch, but it quickly faded away. “He is in his study. And the only reason you're getting into the house today is because for some unknown reason, he wants me to let you in. You better be gone by the time I get back.”

A slight smile appeared on Erik's lips. “I will stay as long as Charles lets me. You should know that. Take your time; it might help.”

Hank growled and turned away from Erik, marching down the steps and heading for his car. He was going to have to pick up the pieces when this turned into the disaster it would inevitably be, and he was not happy about it. At least one of his errands was to go to the liquor store. That would help ease Charles's pain.

Erik watched Hank for a moment and then headed inside the mansion. He shut the door carefully and made his way to the study quietly, finding the door halfway closed. He took a deep breath and let it out. He'd been waiting for this moment, only hoping it wouldn't end in disaster. Erik slowly opened the door wider. “Charles?” he called out softly.

“Come in, shut the door, and lock it,” Charles said from inside the study. “Then you can begin to explain to me why you will not just leave me alone.”

Erik shut and locked the door, then made his way over to Charles, who was seated at the chess board. “I've come to see how you were,” he stated, helping himself to a glass of scotch before taking the seat across from Charles.

“You wanted to see how I was,” Charles stated before downing his glass. “Don't fucking lie to me, Erik. I will venture inside your head and find out why you're really here.”

“Then do so. You have my permission.” Erik took a sip from his glass and glanced at the chess board. “It's your move, if I remember correctly.”

“My...” Charles trailed off and reached for the scotch, pouring himself another glass and knocking it back. He stared at the board for a moment before moving a piece, randomly motioning to Erik. “Your move. And you have never given me permission to be inside your head.”

“It's a start,” Erik said while determining his next move. He wasn't sure if he wanted to win this game or not. “Look inside my head, Charles. The truth is there and it's better than me saying it.” Erik moved another piece and took a large sip of his drink.

“Maybe I'd rather hear you say it,” Charles said, making a quick move and reaching for his scotch. “And I don't know who gave you permission to drink my scotch.”

“I'll replace your bottle then,” Erik sighed as he made another move. “And maybe I'd rather you read my mind.”

He knew this was getting him nowhere, but at least it was something similar to the way it had been eleven years ago. “I've thought long and hard while I was in prison, and in the two months that you've denied my company. I want to become a better man, Charles. You make me want to change. Being alone for as long as I was made me realize that. I've been so blind. I want to stop causing people pain. Even you. Especially you. I've missed you.”

“You want to be a better man?” Charles said, incredulously. “You've been blind? Two months ago, you dropped a stadium on top of me and the White House lawn. And you expect me to believe now that you have suddenly changed?” Charles made a sarcastic noise and knocked over remaining pieces on the board. “Do you really think me some sort of fool, Erik?”

“I could never think of you as a fool, Charles. You wanted words, so I gave them. Look inside my head and you will believe me. I have no other way to convince you unless you tell me otherwise,” Erik said, his voice slightly raised.

“Fuck off,” Charles said, his voice almost turning into a yell. “I will never be able to believe a word you say again. Do you realize that? Do you really realize the damage that you have done? Because it's more than a stadium, Erik. It's the scar in my fucking spine that confines me to that goddamn wheelchair. _You_ did that, Erik. You caused me permanent pain.”

“I know. I regret that fucking day. It haunts me. If I could turn back time and change that day, I would. I should have came back for you. I never should have left. God, Charles, I'm so sorry. I can never forgive myself and I know that's not good enough.”

Charles closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. It would be so easy to enter Erik's mind and find out if he was telling the truth. But he wasn't entirely back to normal with the telepathy yet, and he sure as hell didn't want inside that head. He'd been inside that head - Erik had given him permission to delve inside that head - and he'd found a memory that was so beautiful and so special that he knew there was good inside of Erik, it was just buried deep. He'd known it would be a lengthy process to revive that good, to make Erik see that it still existed, to make Erik embrace the fact that he didn't have to be angry all the time. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe he did regret things he did and maybe he did want to be a better man.

But Charles couldn't take the chance that he'd change his mind again.

"I can't, Erik. I can't do this."

“If you won't listen to a word I'm saying, then why the fuck did you let me in, Charles?” Erik's voice was filled with anger, but he couldn't help it; this needed to be said. “I know you, Charles. Part of you wants to believe. Why won't you? You're afraid to get hurt again, and so am I, but that's the risk I'm willing to take.”

"The last time I believed you I ended up with a bullet in my back," Charles yelled, refusing to open his eyes. "Then, when I thought I may be able to believe you again, you tried to kill Raven instead of just stopping her. I don't know why I ever thought I could find good in you. All you do is prove me wrong. I should have let them have you at the White House. It would have been what you deserved."

“Look at me, Charles.” Erik ordered. “What stopped you from letting them have me?” Erik took another sip from his glass and leaned forward, staring at Charles. “You still care.”

Charles sighed inwardly, furious with himself for letting this conversation reach that point. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was tell Erik Lensherr why he hadn't let the Feds have him. "I do not."

“Yes, you do, or else you wouldn't have let me in,” Erik said more calmly this time.

"Is that what you truly want, Erik? For me to admit I'm still mad about you? And mad is the right word for it too. I'm so mad about you. I want to hate you so badly, and yet I just can't," Charles said in a rush. "You locked up and far away from society was fine with me. But you dead? I just...I can't." Charles reached for the bottle of scotch and poured himself another drink. Suddenly there wasn't enough alcohol in the room for his needs. "And stop drinking my fucking scotch."

“What I want is for you to trust and believe in me again. And fine,” Erik said as he set his barely half full glass on the chess board. “Finish it off.”

Charles didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed the glass and drank the rest of it, then curled his hand tightly around it. “God damn you, Erik. I wish I'd never met you.”

“I can't say the same about you. I'm glad you saved me from drowning. We wouldn't be here if you hadn't.”

“We shouldn't be here,” Charles said, setting both glasses down on the chess board and filling them both up, sliding one across the board to Erik. “Here. Have it. I don't fucking care anymore. I just want you to leave.”

“You're right. We shouldn't be, but we are,” Erik said while staring at the glass, unsure if he should take it. “Do you really want me to leave? Is that what you truly want?”

Charles picked up his glass and slowly drained it of its contents, letting the burn travel down his throat in the most familiar of ways. Then he set the glass down, reached for the bottle, and poured another. “No,” he said, so softly that Erik barely heard him. “I don't want you to leave.”

Erik wasn't sure what to make of Charles wanting him to stay. He was surprised. Erik picked up the full glass and took a large sip. "So what now then? Another game?" he asked as he stood up the fallen over chess pieces with a wave of his hand.

“I'm not in the mood for games,” Charles said, knocking them all over again. “Why are you really here, Erik? None of this better man shit. Be honest with me.”

Erik sighed and took another large sip. "I miss the way things were between us, honestly," he paused, unsure if he should continue on. "I'm tired of being alone."

Charles studied him for a minute, then chose to believe that he was telling the truth. “I know how you feel.”

Erik felt relief flood over him. He didn't know what to expect from the man and he didn't think things would go this far. "Charles," he said quietly, leaning forward again in the chair, "I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you."

“I know,” Charles said softly. “I know you didn't. But it doesn't change the fact that you did.”

"I know it doesn't," Erik said, running a hand through his hair then taking another sip.

“But I suppose I hurt you as well,” Charles said, swallowing hard. “How many times did you wish you heard my voice while you were in that cell? Be honest.”

"I started out trying my hardest not to think about you. Maybe it was a month, maybe it was a year, who knows how long it really was. I could never tell if it was day or night. It was completely quiet in that cell," Erik paused, downing the rest of his drink before he continued. "When the silence was too much, I tried to reach out to you. I figured you were ignoring me. I told myself you could hear me though. That helped a little, but I deserved it, not hearing you. The times I tried reaching you were when I couldn't stop thinking about you. I was just wishing to get something from you. Even if it was to tell me that you loathed me, it would have been good enough."

"And here I was, completely shut off from the entire world," Charles said, running a hand through his still-long hair. "I thought about it, sometimes. Thought about reaching out to you with my mind, but then I remembered that I couldn't hear anything but silence. And I was so fucking angry with you for being so fucking stupid in Dallas that I don't know what I would have said even if I could have. It wouldn't have been pretty, I promise you that."

"Knowing I could hear you would have been good enough. I guess it is a good thing you didn't grant me that satisfaction though."

Charles reached for the bottle and refilled both their glasses. "It wouldn't just have been satisfaction for you," he said, bringing his glass to his lips. "I would have enjoyed hearing your voice in my head again. Far too much."

Erik reached for his glass and took a sip while readjusting himself in his char. "How soon did you start taking the serum?" he asked hesitantly.

Charles took another drink. "After the school closed. That was when I couldn't hide the depression anymore. Hank thought it would help. He didn't know it would take away my powers. But to be honest, I was glad to hear nothing but silence. I was hearing entirely too much sadness."

"I could only imagine," Erik sighed. "I've missed this. Being able to actually talk to someone and enjoy a drink with them. It's nice."

Charles let out a wry smile as he took another sip. “I suppose it would be. Actually, this is probably the most civil conversation I've had with someone while drinking in a very long time. Hank generally stays away when I break out the booze.”

"Another thing I miss is being able to touch someone again," Erik said carefully after taking another sip of his glass. He kept his eyes on the board, hoping Charles wouldn't lash out at the comment.

Charles looked up at Erik, noticing he wouldn't meet his gaze. “I haven't exactly been pulling in the ladies either, you know.”

"What?" Erik met his gaze. "Whatever happened to your cheesy pick up lines?"

“They were just that,” Charles said, laughing. “Cheesy pick up lines! They never, ever worked. And on the few occasions when Hank convinced me to go out, well..” he stopped and took a large sip of his drink. “You know.”

"Then you're not looking in the right places. Any woman would be lucky to have you," Erik said, smiling and taking another sip.

“It wasn't exactly women that I was truly looking for,” Charles said awkwardly, refusing to look at Erik. “Someone ruined women for me.”

Erik swallowed hard. "Oh," he said before downing the rest of his glass.

“What about you?” Charles said, downing his drink and reaching for the bottle, sighing when he realized it was almost empty. “I'm sure you've found some entertainment since we freed you.”

"Not at all. I've mostly kept myself hidden after I was freed. I tried picking up a few here and there at local bars, but after a round of drinks I realized they weren't my taste."

Charles cleared his throat as he poured them each a last drink. "So what is your taste then?"

Erik downed his refilled glass, setting it down in front of him whilst keeping his eyes on Charles. "I think you know exactly what my taste is."

Charles stared at him for a moment before polishing off his glass. "Will you get my wheelchair please?"

"Sure," Erik said, standing up. He retrieved Charles's wheelchair from across the room and brought it to him. "Do you need help?"

"No," Charles said, maneuvering himself into the wheelchair. "Unlock the door and open it please. Then follow me."

Erik made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it as Charles asked and waited there for him. "Where are we going?"

"I think you know where," Charles said, wheeling himself out of the room and down the hall. "Unless you don't want to, in which case you can get the fuck out of my house."

"I do," he said quickly, following closely next to Charles.

Charles grinned as they turned the corner, only to practically run straight into Hank. “Oh, you're back already.”

“I've been gone for almost two hours, Charles,” Hank said, juggling bags in his hands. He finally managed to see over the top of them, only to find Erik standing there next to Charles. “Why is he still here?”

“Because I asked him to be,” Charles said, putting his elbow on the wheelchair's arm and letting his head rest against his hand. “Hank, go put the groceries away, then go to your lab and stay there for the rest of the night. I will be fine, and you will have no need to check on me. Ignore the fact that Erik is here.”

Charles sat back upright and smiled at Hank, who smiled back at him. “I'll see you in the morning, Charles,” Hank said, walking around them and continuing on his way.

Charles sighed once he had disappeared around the corner. “I hate doing that to him, but I didn't want an argument. Come on.”

"That's not surprising," Erik said as he continued to follow Charles to his room. "How often does that happen?" he asked, trying to make conversation.

"Not as often as it used to," Charles said as they arrived at his room. "He's learned that arguing with me is pretty pointless. Besides, I'm usually drunk and tell him to move the fuck out if he can't stand living here. He always stays though. He's been loyal."

 _At least your not fully alone._ "He's a good kid, but I know we aren't here to discuss him."

 _You're not alone, Erik._ “No, we are not,” Charles said, making his way into the room. “I'm telling you now, I did not bring you back here for sex. So if that's what you want, then get out.”

"Even if I wanted that, Charles, I don't think I'm ready for that no matter how long it's been. That's the last thing I expected coming here today," Erik said, closing the door behind them.

"Then what did you expect?" Charles asked as he came to a stop next to the bed, pulling back the sheets. "Why did you come here?"

Erik walked around the room, avoiding the bed. "I didn't know what to expect, honestly. I didn't think you'd keep me around this long," he rushed out. "I came here to be with you, to do what you wanted. I didn't come here to force anything on you."

Charles maneuvered himself out of his wheelchair until he was sitting on the bed, then he took his shirt off and threw it onto the floor. He situated himself beneath the sheets, then looked over at Erik. “Join me?”

Erik made his way over to Charles's bed. He sat down at the side of the bed and slipped off his shoes then settled down on the bed. "So?" he asked while turning on his side to face Charles.

“You said you wanted to touch someone again,” Charles said, his voice a little shaky. “I'm here. Touch me.”

Erik moved closer to Charles, resting his head on his chest while resting his arm on slightly above his waist. "I've missed you," he said, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

Charles moved his arm on top of Erik's, gently rubbing circles onto it. "I've missed you too," he said shakily, breathing in Erik's scent. "I've missed this."

Erik shuddered at Charles's touch. Memories of eleven years ago came flooding back to him, making his emotions overflow. Tears formed in his eyes as he tightened his hold on Charles, hoping he couldn't feel them as they started to fall. "I never stopped loving you," he said with his voice still low. "And I don't ever want to stop."

Charles felt the wetness on his skin, and leaned his head forward to press a kiss to Erik's hair. "I don't want to stop loving you either," he practically whispered, but when Erik tightened his grip on him, he knew he'd heard it. "But I don't know how to make this work. We're too different."

“We could try," Erik breathed out, trying to control his tears. "We could start fresh and leave the hurt behind. We can make it like it was before."

Charles brought his other hand up to smooth down Erik's hair, trying his best to comfort him. "It's too late for that, Erik. And you know that."

"I know...I know it is. I just wish things could have been different."

"So do I," Charles murmured. "So do I. But we have to live with what life has presented us with, and that is a life apart."

Erik let out a soft laugh. "Now you're sounding like yourself again," he said while wiping the tears off his cheek, before putting his arm back around Charles.

"So all that's left is getting you to sound like yourself again," Charles said. "The Erik Lensherr I know would never show anyone how vulnerable he was. Not even me."

"You're right," Erik said, his voice more firm. He set himself up to wipe the rest of his tears away, and looked down at Charles.

"That doesn't mean you have to leave," Charles said quickly, reaching out for him. "Stay. Please."

"Alright," he said quietly, taking the same position he had before, only this time he placed a kiss on Charles's chest before he rested his head back down. "Why do you want me here?"

"Because we deserve one more night," Charles said softly. "After everything we've been through, we deserve at least one more."

"And you're sure about this?" Erik asked, turning his head to look at Charles.

Charles laughed. "Do you think I would have let you into my bed if it wasn't?"

"Alright," Erik sighed, resting his head back down on his chest.  
__________________________________

Charles knew the moment he woke up that he was alone. He hadn't actually expected Erik to stay, but there was that tiny part inside him that dared to hope. He hated that part of himself sometimes. He let his eyes open and took a deep breath, trying to take in everything that had happened the day before. Then he looked to his left and saw a brand new bottle of scotch sitting on his bedside table, a note stuck to it. He plucked the note off the bottle and opened it.

_Sorry I drank all your scotch. And thanks._

Charles smiled. Somehow he just knew that wouldn't be the last he ever saw of Erik.


End file.
